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But strong to blast and blight,
By famine and by fight;
Not a pilot steered the ship,
To my dripping brow and lip.
In silent pomp I dwelt;
My rude adorer knelt;
And ever the red blood ran;
Forging my First for man!
My shrine is silent now;
No crown upon my brow;
Of all that was divine;
Is called by mortals mine.
A PARENTAL ODE TO MY CHILD.
Thou happy, happy elf! (But stop-first let me kiss away that tear)
Thou tiny image of myself! (My love, he's poking peas into his ear)
Thou merry, laughing sprite!
With spirits feather light, Untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin, (See! see! the child is swallowing a pin !)
Thou little cheerful soul !
Thou darling of thy sire!
Thou rogue of mirth and joy!
There goes myaink!)
Thou cherub-but of earth!
In harmless sport and mirth.
Thy father's pride and hope ! (He'll break the mirror with that skipping-rope !) With pure heart newly stamped from nature's mint,
(Where did he learn that squint?)
Thou young domestic dove !
Dear nursling of the hymeneal nest!
Little epitome of man !
(He's got a knife !)
Thou enviable being !
Play on, play on,
My elfin John!
With many a lamb-like frisk.
THE INDIAN'S NOBLE REVENGE.
O'er Ohio the day had passed,
And Autumn's yellow shade
And lengthened o'er the glade.
The bird her sheltered nest;
Both wind and wave had rest.
Into a hunter's hut that eve
There came an Indian chief; O'er all his frame was weariness,
And on his face was grief. Mocassins, dress, and dancing plume,
Were weather-soiled and rent, Broken were both his bow and spear,
And all his arrows spent.
Paint and imploring was his speech;
He knew the white man's hand
Still wasting from the land.
Of water from the well,
That from his table fell.
When many years had flown away,
That hunter of the hill
The deer and fowl to kill.
The deer were shy and fleet,
When they heard the hunter's feet.
No food was in that desert place,
Nor crystal rivulet
Or his hot brow to wet.
Burned feebly in his breast,
His ill-used Indian guest !
Who shared his forest-food with him,
His cup of water shared,
For whom his heart most cared.
“When thou wast stern to me, And I have had my vengeance now;
White man ! farewell to thee !"
Adapted from M'LELI LAY OF THE BRAVE MAN.'
On mountain summits melts the snow ;
A thousand torrents swell the fall ; A lake o'erwhelms the vale below;
A mighty stream receives them all. High roll'd the waves and onward bore The floating blocks of ice before.
On arches strong and massive piers,
A noble bridge above the flood,
And in the midst the tollhouse stood : There dwelt the tollman with child and wife, “Oh! tollman, tollman, arise for thy life !"
Hollow and loud the tempest rang,
Loud roared the winds and waves about, Up to the roof the tollman sprang,
And looked upon the tumult out: “ I'm lost! I'm lost! no safety I see, Oh! Heaven in its mercy have mercy on me!”
Clod after clod, the solid bank,
Rolled in the waves from each torn shore;
Pillar and arch together bore;
Stone after stone at each loose end,
The foaming torrent tears away; Pier after pier begins to bend;
Arch after arch to lose its stay; The ruin approaches the centre near : “O merciful Heaven in mercy give ear !"
High on the farther border stands
A crowd of gazers large and small; And each one cries, or wrings his hands,
But none durst venture of them all. The pale tollman still with wife and child Out shouted for safety the tempest wild.
Then galloped a Count, amidst the band,
A noble Count on charger strongWhat held the Count forth in his band ?
It was a purse both full and long“ Two hundred pistoles shall be counted to-day To him who will bring them in safety away !”
Who then that heard stept forth to save ?
Say, noble song, if say you can !
But yet I know a braver man !
“Tollman bear up! thy heart be cheered !”.
High held the Count the golden prize; But each one heard and each one feared:
Of thousands there, not one replies. In vain the tollman with wife and child Out shouted for safety the tempest wild !
See !-plain and honest on his way
A peasant man was passing by,
Of noble mien and cheerful eye:
Then swiftly in God's name he sprang
Into a boat, and bravely steered,
Until the pier he safely neared ;
Thrice then his little bark he steered,
Where whirlpool tossed and billows raved :
Until at last he all had saved ;
“ Here” cried the Count, “my noble friend,
Here in this purse the gold you'll find.”
Doubtless the Count had a noble mind,-
“My life shall not for wealth be sold,
Poor though I am, I've enough to eat;
For he has lost both goods and meat;"
From the German of Burger.